I'll eat up all your crackers and your licorice

100 Words about Baseball

Why I Love Baseball

There is no clock
90 feet between bases is genius
There are secret signs
Hanging curveballs are sexy
Numbers are magic: 755, 56, 7, 61, 1.12
Tinker to Evers to Chance
Ivy at Wrigley
The Green Monster
The suicide squeeze
Cracker Jack
Walt Whitman liked it
Jackie Robinson and Pee-Wee Reese
It just feels American
The seventh-inning stretch
Superstition
Guys in tight pants
Bull Durham
Centerfield
There’s no crying in baseball
Cooperstown
A great play at the plate
Chatter
Pepper
High socks
Tradition
Spring training
Keeping score
The rubber game
The infield fly rule
162 chances

Become a Fan

musing

There really is no better way to end a day of 14 talks, plus myriad other 3-minute "interstitial" talks as the terrific TED blogger Chel calls them, than with the TED Prize talks. After a day of intense information flow and mind-bending technologies and concepts, it's a relief to have these Prize issues brought to the forefront in a way that says "I want to do this particular good, and YOU can help." It marries the intellectual with the emotional. But I also think back to last year's talk by Ben Zander. If you watch it on the TED site, you don't get the full experience. After the portion of the talk you see online ended, Zander led us all in singing Schiller's "Ode to Joy" which Beethoven famously set to music in the chorale of his Ninth Symphony. It had been a long day of wonderful talks, but there was something in that singing together, with abandon after much coaxing and encouragement by Zander, going "beyond the f*ck it." It was uplifting and connected us all to the wonder and beauty we are all capable of, giving us another door in to the belief that the things we were hearing and experiencing were, in fact, possible.

During Elizabeth Gilbert's talk yesterday, she spoke of performers who, when they seemed to transcend their art, their audience would shout "Allah! Allah!" because they believed God was with the performer. As people migrated and language changed, this cheer became "Ole! Ole!"

After Jose Antonio Abreu's TED Prize talk, we were treated live via satellite to a concert. I assume this is the primary Venezuelan Youth Orchestra. Led by outstanding conductor Gustavo Dudumel, himself a product of Abreu's El Sistema, they gave a vigorous, inspired, buoyant performance. Here in Palm Springs, the response was visceral--there wasn't a simple standing ovation. People leapt to their feet. The applause was thunderous and frenzied. There was laughter. There were tears. But above it all was the joy--Ole! Ole! Ole!

TED represents a great paradox - how can something be so mentally exhausting and invigorating at the same time? My brain is humming from today's speakers and I know that tomorrow brings so much more. I'm in my room now getting some much-needed introversion time. One thing I do at TED is push myself to operate out of my preference and be more extroverted. That's hard work any day of the week, but in a situation where I'm already hyper-stimulated, it's that much harder. Or maybe the hyper-stimulation makes it easier...I'll have to noodle on that.

Another TED truism - as the information flows in, it can be a struggle to make sense of it all, but as time goes by, the connections multiply. (Some connections come quickly, of course.)

I keep thinking about the Fast Company characterization of the satellite location as the "B list" and what it's really like here. Yes, I'd definitely like to experience the "big TED" one day, but just as I was last year in Aspen, I'm struck by the intimacy of this community. I'm sure that there's a certain level of intimacy in Long Beach, but there's something to be said for a smaller group where you can connect with more people in a bit more depth. There's also something great about being in one spot - no shuttles to take back and forth from the convention center. Tara Hunt tweeted today that she'll bring her toothbrush with her tomorrow because the hotel is far removed, which made me chuckle.

I was happy to hear that they've established TED hosts in Long Beach to help TED "virgins" feel welcome. But why not have hosts in Palm Springs, too? was my immediate thought. So I tweeted and emailed my suggestion and volunteered to be a host. ;) Yes, that's right. Me. The introvert. Go figure. I need to find Bruce Johnson, who sent the TED folks an email similar to mine. Bruce, if you are reading this, let's talk!

There are a lot of ways to follow TED happenings. The TED blog has great reports on the speakers. There you can find the text of the poem "Tomorrow's Child" read by Ray Anderson, Twitter snapshots, and interviews with TED speakers. For instance, there's a short interview of Chris Hughes, who gave a demo on software he wrote to enable a web browser to do object recognition and layer onto the object real-time graphics and video. So imagine the newspaper you are reading having the ability to also play a video clip related to the story on the page. What, you've never heard of Chris? (I hadn't before today.) Well, if you have a jailbroken iPhone, you have him to thank, because he's the first person to do that. You can read more about that at the TED blog. Also on the blog is a list of people who are blogging the event. There is such an overwhelming amount of information output here that it's impossible for one person to report it all. Not only that, we all take in this information differently, so it's awesome to have so many different reads on the same topic!

You can also follow TED happenings by searching Twitter (via its own search tool or services like Tweetscan) for the #TED2009 and #TED@PalmSprings hashtags.

I'm still thinking about the gift bag and wondering if the scaled back gifts are a sign of shifting priorities. Many of the gifts focus on sustainability and learning. I'm connecting it now to Ray Anderson's equation for environmental impact and the inclusion of happiness, in which happiness is related to being happy with less stuff. So intentional or not, the gift bag definitely fits with this framing of impact and affluence as less material based.

So with that, I think I will do a little non-TED stuff, like read my email or write a poem or just go to bed. Bed sounds awfully appealing right now, actually.

Oh, but I forgot what I was saying about connections. I really should page up and put this up there with the other picture, but it's late and I'm feeling to lazy to "squirrel" up as Alex would say. So I'll just keep typing here and say that I'm looking forward to a lot of reflection in the coming days and months about this entire experience, and to the patterns that emerge as I step back. Good night, all.

It just so happened that my successful month of 100 Words participation
coincided with Hurricane Katrina. I had planned to write this post this
weekend and share the entries, but what I didn't count on was Gustav.

I was in Memphis, Tennessee that week doing some client work. We were staying at this funny Holiday Inn on the University of Memphis campus. UM has a school of resort management named after Holiday Inn founder Kemmons Wilson, and I believe the hotel itself serves as a kind of laboratory for students. That in and of itself makes it unique, but it's also an all-suite HI (we stayed there many times while working with this client - we called the rooms our apartments). And on one of the floors there was a Kemmons Wilson museum with all sorts of memorabilia and big quotes on the walls. Each room had not only a Bible and a phone book, but a Kemmons Wilson biography.

To be honest, I hadn't followed news of the storm very closely. It was a high-stakes event we were in town for and I was consumed by the preparation. But I will never forget the feeling of despair while watching the news, the way the hotel quickly filled with pacing refugees. Reading these entries now is sobering in that the immense scale of this disaster had yet to sink in. I remember one phone report by Jeanne Meserve, so tinged with emotion and horror that the sound of her voice moved me to tears as much as the scene she described.

I am not a traditionally religious person - there is no being I might pray to - but when I watch Gustav follow the Katrina-worn path, I'm doing something akin to prayer that the suffering will be as slight as possible.

29 August 2005

I am in a Memphis hotel, a place whose website notes that they allow pets. When I read this, I
simply thought it was unusual. Little did I know it would become noteworthy.
See, a hurricane has been pummeling the Gulf coast all day. A million people are
streaming north, some landing here, 350 miles inland at a business hotel with
an unusual but fortunate acceptance of animals. They pace with their dogs along
the hallways, worrying about the homes that might be gone, the precious objects
they couldn’t bring along, the neighbor whom they couldn’t convince to also
flee.

30 August 2005

This morning I knew things were bad, but I clung to naive
optimism. “Maybe they can recover by Mardi Gras,” I thought. What a triumphant
celebration that would be. As I had a chance to watch the news during session
breaks, I realized my utter folly. Levees breached. New Orleans under water. Even now, I can’t
comprehend the horror facing those trapped in that drowned bowl of a city. How
will they survive? How many are dead? From the bedroom of my suite I listened
to Jeanne Meserve describe the terrible scene, her cracking voice more powerful
than any picture.

On the heels of that last big chance-taking post (and thank you to everyone who commented here and in other forums - your support means so much!), I thought I'd say a little about some current favorite songs. I recently put a bunch of Mary Chapin Carpenter songs on my iPod and it's been so nice hearing those old favorites again. I like pretty much every note of the album "Come On, Come On" but there are two bits that stand out right now. The first is from "I Take My Chances":

I walked alone in the rain one dayOn the wrong side of the track.I stood on the rail 'til I saw that trainJust to see how my heart would react.Now some people say that you shouldn't tempt fateAnd for them I could not disagree.But I never learned nothing from playing it safe,I say fate should not tempt me.

If there's anything I've learned in my almost nine years with the firm, it's that I grow myself the most when I take chances, when I decide to be my biggest self. I know that it's when I step out on that edge and lean into that new territory I really find out what I can do and what more I can be. I've learned more in my career, for instance, by constantly inventing new titles and roles with my boss - usually things I think I can't do - and then feeling out the edges, filling in the gaps, finding new pieces of me to make it work. I spend a not insignificant part of my time a bit scared out of my gourd, but it almost always pays off in ways I could have never imagined. So yeah, I'll trade a little fear, a little discomfort, a little teetering on the edge for the results - feeling more whole, expanding my range of possibilities, being a bigger me.

Then there's another Mary Chapin Carpenter song called "The Hard Way" and I pretty much love every word of it, but I'll only share one:
We've got two lives, one we're given and the other one we make.

I've been carrying that lyric around with me for 15 years now and I can't say I always knew what it meant to me, I just knew it was important. But now I know it's about choice - for so long I lived life as it was give to me, or as it was in front of me. I accepted what was without pushing for what should be. I waited for things to happen. I'm not a fully realized, enlightened being by any stretch, so I know I still do this to a degree in relation to things both important and trivial. But I'm much more aware of the role choice plays and the fact that I'm in control so much more often than not. I'd rather choose something and make a mistake but learn something about me and life than just take what's in front of me and never know the possibilities.

So that's what's on my mind today here in Trinidad (more on that later). If you need me, you can find me here at the inn, tapping away on my keyboard, humming "I Feel Lucky."

Sometimes I think about the difference between doing something and being that thing. I blog, ergo, I am a blogger. I write, therefore I am a writer. Right? I don't know. I run and I definitely consider myself a runner even though I haven't run all winter and up until 3 years ago, I thought running was something I simply couldn't do.

Is it really that simple, though? If someone were to ask if I sing, I'd say "Yeah, I sing up a storm in the car." But I would never say I'm a singer. (And neither would anyone who has been in the car with me.) Do you have to be good at something to label yourself as such?

OK, wow...this is so not where I intended to go with this post, but I love it when I start typing and a new truth comes out. The ironic thing is that I've been pondering spirituality for a couple of years now and if I were to label myself, I say I'm closer to Buddhist than anything else. I'm a pretty bad Buddhist, but that doesn't stop me from saying that's what I am. Would a better Buddhist scoff at my self-labeling? Would a real Buddhist scoff at anything? Scoffing seems very un-Buddhist like. These are the very questions that make me a bad Buddhist, I think. But you know what? I am A-OK with that.

Anyhow, getting back to what I intended to say...over the last couple of years it seems everyone has started talking about personal brand. It is apparently a big deal, and every blogger worth her salt is considering how each post builds an online persona (which might be and probably often is different from the real life persona). When the topic comes up, I have two reactions. The first is, "Sweet fancy Moses, my online brand sucks! There's so much of this and that, too much nonsense. Where's my focus? Where's my purpose?? I am not a blogger, I am a total poser!" (Yeah, I know no one uses "poser" anymore.) This is accompanied by hand-wringing and a facial expression best described as "vexed."

My second reaction is a bit more subdued. Here's how it goes: from an upright and relaxed position, simultaneously raise both shoulders approximately one inch. Return shoulders to their resting state. No need to repeat. That's right, part of me just doesn't care about my personal brand. I'm not out to make money off my blog, accumulate a huge readership, promote my business* or new book** or otherwise get famous. I don't want to be Scoble or Dooce. (Not that there's anything wrong with them - we just have different motivations. I think.) I just want to be me, and so far, being me is an inconsistent and often contradictory hodge-podge. But everything I know about brand emphasizes consistency and alignment. It is about focus, about doing one thing and doing it well. Soooo not me.

And let's face it, between parenting a six-year old (who, upon the first loosening of an incisor insisted he could no longer brush his own teeth and keeps announcing he wants to learn Japanese so he can go to Japan instead of having a seventh birthday party) and working a full-time job that I adore but adds up to more than 40 hours a week and has me flying all over the place, I often find myself making choices like "Blog or sleep?" (note that it is now 1:58 a.m. and I am not sleep-typing) Adding "carefully curate my online persona" to my to-do list just ain't happening.

This is not to say that careful attention to one's personal brand is unimportant or frivolous or a waste of time. It's very important for a lot of people and for good reason. But for me, I think I'll just stick to being a person who, among many other things, blogs. I mean, I think I'll just be a blogger.

Oh, one last note. My job title? Brand and Strategy Manager. Maybe managing my personal brand is more life-work integration*** than I can muster.

*I don't have a business. (anymore)**Don't have a new book, either. Or even an old one.***I don't believe in work-life balance. Perhaps in my next post I'll explain what life-work integration means to me.

I've been thinking this week about why I blog. I didn't start this blog for the same reasons some others start blogs. It doesn't have a specific purpose such as like discussing cloth diapering or reviewing the latest episode of Lost. When I began this, I'd been using LiveJournal for about three years as part of a fairly closed community of "friends." I use the scare quotes because this group is an online community that grew out of participation in a usenet group. They are my online friends, although I am closer to some than others and there are several in the community who I consider real-life friends--our families get together, we've held each other's children, we manage to carve out a weekend together here and there even though we're scattered up and down the East Coast.

But anyway -- I had been LiveJournaling, but all my posts were locked and viewable only by this group because that's what felt safe. Eventually I noticed a few things. First, I wasn't really satisfied with the amount of control I had over what I did in LiveJournal. I wanted my postings to look a certain way, but I didn't want to have to be a programmer to do that. (Clue: I am not one with HTML, XML or any other ML.) I wanted something that felt more my own, rather than my own little chapter in the enormous LiveJournal book. I was also feeling a bit of, for lack of a better term, interest drift in the community. I do believe you can make meaningful connections with others online, and I realized that if I wanted to continue to do that, I needed to look beyond this closed community. Finally, I began to wonder what I might do differently if my audience was both limitless and unknown to me. What issues of privacy did that raise? What would I actually feel safer talking about in a different forum because of the norms that had developed in the closed community? (Some good, some not good in my opinion.) How does being public shift the conversation?

I began poking around and settled here at Typepad with this blog. I started it, played around with its appearance, and then stalled for a while, unsure about what I wanted to do or say. After a period of inactivity, I finally got my backside in gear and began an effort to update it with some semblance of regularity.

So that's what's been going on for a few years now. I'd stop and look up when I began this blog, but it's Saturday and I have laundry going and I'm just too lazy to open a new tab in Firefox. Let's just say it's been about three years. This has been a bit of a digital catch-all where I toss in things I want to remember, stories about daily life, bits of things that amuse or delight me, the occasional photo or two, and sometimes a complaint or opinion about current events. And while no one keeps a publicly accessible blog only for themselves, it is still more for my own benefit than anyone else's. I like having this different kind of record of my life. It's never going to be comprehensive (I shouldn't say "never," I know), but I like that it's this different representation of me that, added up with many other things, forms a sense of me. Not me exactly, but close enough, and everyone looking in is going to take away their own image of the sum of those parts, just like if someone met me in person they would carry me in their minds differently than I carry myself.

So what does all this mean? Why am I thinking about it? One reason is that I've been considering giving up LiveJournal (not reading, but posting there) entirely. Life moves and I have to make choices about where to invest my time, and it might eventually come down to a choice between this and that. Not sure how I feel about that. But the other reason is that we've been building on our blog at the firm where I work, and so I've been paying a lot more attention to things like how to generate traffic and how to foster an environment where a community can form. This is one clear area where I easily integrate work and life, because I can't have those discussions at work and not think about how they apply to the other parts of my life. What do I really want out of this blog? Do I want to try to generate more traffic? Do I have the time to invest in that? Do I want the headaches, like trolls and comment spam, that can go along with that? I look at what happened with Kathy Sierra and think that it's a scary world out here in the open, and maybe I'll just keep my head down. (Not that I have any interest in generating traffic that big or any belief that I could.) But there seems to be a lot more upside than down, and I think about all that I have to learn and gain (intellectual, not monetary gain) by doing my part to build community on the web. How would being a part of something bigger change me? How much more would I learn?

Notice I'm putting aside the nuts-and-bolts questions like "Just how do I do it?" and "What will I say?" I think that once I decide what I want, I'll figure out the rest and it'll either work or it won't. But it's the initial decision that is the important one.

As I turn this over in my mind, here are some things I know I am NOT going to do:

1. Stop talking about things like handbags or makeup or fun new music. I like these things - they can delight me. No apologies. 2. Start talking about things I don't care about. I'm not going to blog about whatever is hot just for the sake of getting others to read. 3. Avoid taking a stand on the issues I care about. Sometimes I shy away from issues because of their controversy and I end up only posting something about politics or current events when I'm really good and mad. Gotta stop doing that.4. Write haiku. I still don't like it, remember?

So, where does this leave me? With a lot of questions -- 15 in this post alone. I guess I have some thinking to do. But the washing machine calls, so I need to stop thinking at the keyboard and start thinking while I put some laundry in the dryer and think about what to pack for tomorrow's trip.

Seth's point being that domain names are cheap, asking how you could impact your web presence by having a page for each idea. Mack's spin is slightly different, looking at the link's almost 5000 diggs as of this morning and comparing the pros and cons of social media -- any idea can be an overnight sensation, he says, but sometimes novelty trumps substance.

I'm all for more people being able to spell, though, so bring on d-i-l-e-m-m-a.com, c-o-n-v-e-n-i-e-n-t.com and all their friends.

In a corner of the blogosphere dominated by the latest software release or hippest 2.0 venture or biggest acquisition, Robert Scoble injected a bit of sobering life and death reality, and when I say "life and death," I really mean it. He pointed readers to the work of Renee C. Byer, this year's winner of the Pulitzer Prize for feature photography. Be warned that this link includes heartbreaking images--it takes you to a photo series chronicling the lives of a mother and her 11-year-old son as he battles a rare childhood cancer that ultimately takes his life. The story behind the photos is included in captions that you'll have to scroll down to read.

Vision - that really is your strength. It gives you courage, discernment. Being able to see clearly that thing you desire in your heart -- it doesn't come TO you, it comes THROUGH you. It bubbles up inside you. When she was a young mother of 3 on welfare in the projects, her vision was to pay her rent. Everything outside of that -- survival -- didn't get engaged. She didn't get distracted. You have to be very clear about when you're being distracted from your vision. We think it's our duty to help other people with their problems. You have to know how to do YOU. You have to know how to take care of yourself so your vision can be clear and you can be focused.

When do you have a clear vision? You feel it -- it's exciting, it can even make you cry. But then deceptive intelligence will start telling you why it can't happen. It's like having a new puppy -- you are happy and pay it a lot of attention at first. But eventually it starts pissing on the carpet and chewing on your shoes. Your brain tells you aren't worthy, you can't do it. You have to TRAIN your mind. How are you training your dogs, because they're barking - some louder than others.

But we're each in our car, in our lane on our road. Stay focused on that; don't try to get in someone else's car and drive it. It's their car - you don't know how to drive it, even if you think you do.

Allow yourself to have a complete feeling. Courage is the ability and willingness to do what you know you have to do before you are forced to do it.

Courage and all those other things you all want to talk about -- they're already in you. But they're all in there with shame and doubt and guilt and fear. Those negative thoughts have trained us. The only way we're going to retrain ourselves is by doing -- it only comes from doing and practice. But the good news is that the positive thoughts are a wellspring -- they bring more. If you fail at something, don't forget to celebrate the trying. You need that positive reinforcement. Celebrating is what gives you strength to continue on. ("Do or do not, there is no try." I think about that quote all the time and for me it's an affirmation, not a negation. Because when you try, you are doing, no matter how brief that trying is. That is to be celebrated.)

Do what you can and celebrate that. Sometimes you have to trick yourself, though -- do what little you can over and over. So many of us set our expectations so high in some false sense of perfection that we never try or never celebrate. Do what you can do in your car and stop peeking in your rear-view mirror to see what other people are doing.

So many people live joyless lives -- we've made everything into work. Pleasure isn't joy -- it requires constant stimulation. Joy comes from within, not without. We have to be able to see beyond the moment to see something grander and greater than where we are now. Without that, we will never get to joy. That's what keeps you in your passion.

Passion is dissipated by unexpressed anger. Once you get into passion, that anger will rise to the surface anyway. We are taught not to deal with anger. We're told it isn't nice, we aren't taught the appropriate ways to express it. We try to do nice things with it, which doesn't work.

Everyone has a critic in their life. Begin to listen to them from another place. Here's the key - if it triggers a feeling, look at it. The ones that HIT you are what you need to examine. Most of the things that hit you are close to what you say about yourself, usually the things you barely listen to, the feelings you push down. You have to be vigilant about what you do and what it creates.

There is a distinction between willingness and readiness. You can be willing to do many things, but not ready. When you are ready, you have desire AND vision. Willingness fuels you but readiness moves you.

What keeps us from being ready? Many things, but the big one is the unwillingness to accept full responsibility for creating and sustaining the thing we say we want. If I really get this, I'm going to have to do this, go here, change things, people are going to think this. Get out of those people's cars. How can you tell you are stuck in the state of willingness? Anytime you have an excuse for anything happening -- you aren't ready. Giving and receiving excuses is most of the reason we don't achieve our dreams.

There is no excuse acceptable to the universe for you not SHOWING UP. There's nothing more delicious than the celebration of your own victory. Celebrate and encourage yourself. We're so afraid to celebrate ourselves -- people will talk about us. How do you know they're talking about you? Get OUT of their cars! Stay in your own car.

How do you move from anger to acceptance? It's about choice -- you can stay in anger, but the people who made you mad are in their cars already farther down the road while you're on the side of the road retching. They aren't waiting for you. You have to not just walk through the fire -- you have to sit in it. You have to let it all out, let the resentment burn off.

(Story about her divorce.) If you love someone, you can't push them out of your heart. You have to decide how you are going to connect with them, or how you are going to interact. You can't tell other people how to love you. They love you the way they know how to love. You CHOOSE how to participate.

(Story about how she came to love the woman her former partner was with - because that other woman made him happy in ways she couldn't, and she wanted him to be happy. It meant being able to get off your position -- she wanted him to suffer and hurt. But that wasn't helpful, it wasn't changing anything.)

It's a high calling, and you must have already answered it because you're here. Stop being a reluctant messiah -- stop holding yourself back. You are the bible that someone is waiting to read, step into your divinity and be ready to be who you are. Don't be afraid to step into that - don't worry that it will upset the people around you, because they're already upset.

Your ego can make very rational arguments to keep you in a place your being doesn't want or need to be; it blocks your vision. Ego isn't all bad. The goal of ego is to keep us separate and distinct. Your daily spiritual or reflective practice is how you keep connected to your strength that is separate or bigger than the ego.

How do you know if you are being divinely guided? When you get to the end, if it worked!Here's a clue -- if you can't say it in front of your mother, don't say it. Don't do it.

What do you do about other people's anger being directed at you? How do you diffuse it.Bless them. Don't try to diffuse it -- maybe they don't want it diffused. At some time you just have to say NO, NOT ME, NOT NOW. Don't engage, draw your boundaries. When you can say that from your being, they get it. When you are clear that it isn't about you, you can do it, you can draw the line.

Is it ever okay to accept fears or limitations?Always accept fears and examine them. But don't accept limitations. You are not limited.

In the past it has been hard to decide what is my vision.Pick one. If it isn't working, say "oh, this isn't working" and pick a new one. Give it enough time, but if it isn't working, pick another one.

How does one work through real limitations, like physical limitations like MS?Accept the reality, but don't accept what other people say is possible - figure it out for yourself. You do not have to live the life others have lived with the same physical reality.

As we grow and change, other people are also growing and changing and we may continue to see them in the same way or not see them in their newness. How do you see them? How do you deal with their newness and experience them in a new way?Ask them where they are and trust that what they say is true for them. Examine it and figure out how you will be with them. Don't assume - stay in your car.

How would you handle being at the brink of a very large success knowing about the possibility of losing someone because of it.Go for it -- you don't lose people. People come in to your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime. If they are supposed to be there, they'll still be there.

What is your sacred strength? Your courage, wisdom, faith, joy, compassion, vision, passion. But it's in there with the shame and guilt and fear. The only way to clean that out is to pour the clean water in with your daily spiritual or reflective practice. That's what makes the affirming voice inside sound familiar and right. You have to call up the negative, take it on. Escape artists walk through the fire; warriors sit in the fire. You are never on your own. You are always receiving guidance -- but are you taking it? Test for willingness AND readiness. Sacred strength is every feeling you have -- you are the bible that somebody is waiting to read. Show up in your life and being the best you can be. If you don't know how great you are, fake it until you can make it. Have a blessed and wonderful life of your making and choosing and accept full responsibility for your own life.